


a possibility waiting, alive, inside

by j_quadrifrons



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Canon-Typical Mutual Pining, Declarations Of Love, First Kiss, M/M, Misunderstandings, Resolved Romantic Tension, Spider Facts, Tumblr Prompt, seriously fairly graphic spider facts if you're an arachnophobe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-05-28 06:46:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19388671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_quadrifrons/pseuds/j_quadrifrons
Summary: Martin loves spiders. Jon is at the end. From the prompt: “I love you, but you need to shut up.”





	a possibility waiting, alive, inside

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HirilElfwraith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HirilElfwraith/gifts).



> I posted about [half of this](https://backofthebookshelf.tumblr.com/post/185297528186/jonmartin-26) as a response to a tumblr prompt and then I was fairly called out for always stopping at the moment of maximum unresolved romantic tension so I decided to see if I could keep going, and that doubled it in length so it almost counts as a proper fic now.
> 
> Yet another pretentious poetry title from Albert Goldbarth, this time "The Too Late Poem," which is a veritable goldmine of TMA fic titles.

It was half an hour into the conversation before Jon looked around the table and realized he finally had the thing he'd been wishing for: a chance to talk it over with everyone, instead of just sitting alone in his office struggling with things he couldn't understand. Daisy fidgeted a lot and didn't make eye contact when she spoke, but she had plenty of ideas. Basira, humbled by the disaster in Ny-Ålesund, listened intently and made only tentative suggestions. It made Jon's chest ache to see her so uncertain even while he fought down the anger at her betrayal, spending months working on intel from Elias without telling anyone what she was doing. Melanie was prepared to burn something down to stop the Extinction, whatever it was that needed burning, though she swore it was only frustration at having spent so long helpless and not the Slaughter coming to the fore again. Jon thought she was probably right; he could feel the impulse himself. And Martin -

Martin was different, since coming back from Lukas's employ. More confident in himself, less nervous. He didn't flinch from anyone's criticism. When Jon had first seen him again he'd been shocked at how _tall_ Martin was, until he realized that he'd never before seen the man stand without a bit of a slouch.

And of course none of them would be here if it weren't for Martin's research, the details about the Extinction he'd pulled out from seemingly random statements, the little tidbits of information about the Lonely's plans eked out from the unexpectedly gregarious Peter Lukas. It was beginning to look like Martin Blackwood was the one who was going to save them all, and it made Jon's heart ache with affection.

The house at Hill Top Road, Martin was convinced, was at the center of something. He'd just about convinced the rest of them as well. Jon remembered vividly both his desire to investigate the house and the conviction that he should do nothing of the sort, two impulses equally strong that had canceled each other out completely. Of course, the fact that the place was clearly a stronghold of the Web was its own reason for Jon to want to avoid it.

"I ran into something like that once," Daisy said, after Jon finished explaining the egg sac scenario Ronald Sinclair had described in his statement. "Other end of it, though, like...like something had taken over a person and then just left their shell behind. They were these weird person-husks, but," she gestured helplessly. "Spidery."

"Actually," Martin said, "that _is_ a spider thing. They have an exoskeleton, so when they grow they have to shed the old one, like crabs. Or lobsters."

"Wait," Melanie said, "spiders _molt_?"

Jon had a horrifying mental image building in his mind of Mr. Spider, full from his meal, shedding his skin and emerging even larger than before. He suppressed a shudder.

"It's really cool actually! They secrete a fluid to separate the old exoskeleton from the new one and then they just kind of flex until it cracks and they can climb out of it." Martin's fingers curled in illustration.

A giant exoskeleton, slick with ooze, lying limp on the floor. Jon was actually beginning to feel a bit nauseous. "Martin," he said, but Daisy spoke at the same time.

"So why do they wind up all curled up like that?" She sounded genuinely intrigued, the traitor.

Martin was gesturing enthusiastically. "Oh, it's because their legs work on hydraulics, so once the exoskeleton is empty the resting state is flexed instead of extended, and..."

Mr. Spider's legs windmilling horribly, a hollow knock at the door. "Martin!"

"Does that mean they're vulnerable when they've just molted?" Basira asked, intent. "That might give us an opportunity."

"I mean yeah," Martin said, "but most spiders only molt when they're young. Although some species keep growing their whole lives. I had a tarantula molt once that--"

"Martin," Jon said firmly, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, "I love you but you need to shut up."

Silence fell across the table. Jon looked up at Martin, his mouth gone suddenly dry. Martin was staring back at him, mouth agape, looking very much like he'd forgotten how to breathe. _At least he's not talking about spiders_ , Jon thought wildly, but he could not think of what to say. "I--"

"I think I'd like a cup of tea!" Melanie said with forced cheerfulness. "No, don't get up, I'll be right back." She shoved her chair back forcefully and strode off in the direction of the break room, fully ignoring the kettle they usually used right there in the room.

"Think I'll join you," Basira said, and followed a little more quietly. Daisy didn't say anything, just made significant eye contact with Jon as she got up to follow the others, leaving Jon staring down at his hands and Martin watching him from across the table.

Jon took a deep breath, steeling himself. "Right," he said softly, putting his thoughts in order. He looked up again and the look of fond exasperation on Martin's face left him speechless again. He groped for words, unwilling to leave it to Martin to dig Jon out of this. "I didn't mean..." And that wasn't right at all. He cut himself off before the look on Martin's face could change. "I did mean it," he said, nearly choking on it. "But I didn't mean to say --" Why was this so difficult? Martin was the only person he'd wanted to talk to for months, since he'd woken from the coma he'd wanted nothing more than to tell Martin --

To tell Martin what? That he worried about him, that he missed him? He'd done that and it had proved nothing. Martin had ignored him and gone back to Peter Lukas -- yes, he'd been doing it to protect the rest of them, but still. Jon thought again of that tape he'd listened to, all the way back before the Unknowing, of Melanie and Basira sharing office gossip, and of the inexplicable warmth he'd felt when they discussed Martin's behavior toward him. What had he wanted to say then? Had he ever managed to put words to it at all?

He was looking at his hands again. There was a stain on the cuff of his sleeve. Tea? Ink? It didn't look like blood, but he couldn't be sure.

There was another sound of a chair scraping across the floor, and Jon looked up to find Martin sitting down next to him. He was terrified of what must be showing on his face, but Martin was looking at him with such softness that he couldn't look away. He wanted to follow Melanie and Basira and Daisy out the door. He wanted to wrap his arms around Martin and never let go. He wanted everything to go back the way it was, god, four years ago, before he'd taken this terrible promotion and Martin was just another researcher he didn't see very often and they were both still human enough to make this - to make anything - work.

"Jon," Martin said softly, like Jon was a nervous animal he didn't want to startle. "It's all right. I know -" His voice caught, and he laughed it off weakly. "I mean you listened to the tapes, if you even need to any more, you probably know I've been in love with you for years. But I know you don't think of me like that and it's _fine_ , I understand."

 _No_ , was all Jon's thoughts could manage in response. This was intolerable. Jon reached out to take Martin's hand but found himself cradling Martin's jaw instead, the scratch of stubble a sharp contrast to the softness of the curls at his collar. Martin stopped talking and looked back at Jon, wide-eyed and a little scared.

"I do, though," Jon said. "I do love you, like - like that, and I have. For -- I don't know for how long." He forced himself to meet Martin's eyes, wide and dark and wet with unshed tears, and his entire chest ached with love and regret. Jon's mouth twisted in a half-smile and he admitted, "I didn't know it until I woke up and you were gone. Terrible timing, I know."

Martin didn't move, didn't respond, and Jon was having to force himself to breathe. He licked his lips nervously, and Martin's eyes flickered. "Say something?" Jon pleaded.

He didn't. Instead he pushed forward, just a little too fast, and then they were kissing. Jon's hand slid fully into Martin's hair with the movement and it was so soft and lovely he brought his other hand up to join it. Martin kissed like he was dying, like he had to have everything he wanted right now before it was taken away from him again. He barely stopped to breathe, gasping for air and pressing back in again, hands twisting at the collar of Jon's shirt. And Jon took all of it, leaning into him, fingers curling in Martin's hair.

Finally they couldn't any longer, and Martin leaned forward with his face pressed into Jon's chest, Jon's arms wrapped around Martin's shoulders to hold him. Jon felt strangely light, at peace at last, no matter the monsters they still had to fight, inside the Institute and without and here in each other's arms. He thought he could have stayed like that forever.

Behind him a door creaked from a place there would not normally be a door. "Archivist," Helen called out cheerfully, "are you quite finished? Melanie says she left her bag and -"

"Helen!" Melanie's voice came sharply. Still tucked up against Jon, Martin began to laugh.

**Author's Note:**

> Please come yell about TMA with me, I have too many feelings  
> [@j_quadrifrons](https://twitter.com/j_quadrifrons), [backofthebookshelf](https://backofthebookshelf.tumblr.com)


End file.
